Lysira shivered, the wind billowing throughout the undergrowth in which she hid, it's frigid grasp entwining about the lithe form that lay concealed amongst the dense bracken.
Her nose wrinkled, a considerative gaze fixated upon the lustrous lunar light that threatened to expose her to the camp that lay a little way down the valley, muttering incoherantly to herself as she checked a small, silver pocketwatch, it's argent veneer glinting brilliantly in the moonlight.
"'S gunna' take all bloody night if it carries on like this, 'ent it.."
Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/
Theft
